Inspiration
by Cerulean Pen
Summary: Albert used to play the guitar, but his was destroyed in the FAYZ, by some kid for firewood. After an emergency in the McClub, Albert visit's the daycare, and finds a guitar in the corner, and can't help himself. Albert/Mary, a bit fluffy.


Inspiration

Summary: Albert used to play the guitar, but his was destroyed in the FAYZ, by some kid for firewood. After an emergency in the McClub, Albert visit's the daycare, and finds a guitar in the corner, and can't help himself.

English Romance/Hurt/Comfort Rated: K+ Chapters:1 Words: Albert & Mary

**A/N: Second "Gone" story, yes, another one-shot, using one of my favorite pairings, because Albert is really cool, reopening the McDonalds and such, and Mary is really nice, but I feel sorry for her. Hope everyone enjoys this one-shot, and leaves a review: reviews are love. =) (Post-"Gone", takes place a few days after Albert opens the McClub.)**

Before the FAYZ, Albert had a lot of time on his hands, with his multiple older siblings and disabled mother who spent most of her time sleeping, complaining, or watching TV, or, sometimes, doing all at once. He loved to cook, that was no surprise, but he had a thing for music, a love, a need that removed him from reality. Albert was no singer; he had flubbed up in his fifth grade chorus program; his talent was for the acoustic guitar. From strumming simple chords, to playing entire songs, Albert loved the feel of the strings on his fingers, the full, deep sound that came from the instrument.

But, that was before the FAYZ, before everything in his world had crumbled, leaving him to build a new oasis, a new island for protection-the only protection you could guarantee was from Dahra in hospital, or from Ellen in the fire station. Albert knew where his place was: McDonalds. He remembered walking in, just a day or two after all the adults disappeared, looking around at the sickly lighting, at the toys and French Fries scattered around. Owning the fast food establishment had come in an instant, he just put on the hat, made the kids' orders, and he had a restaurant.

But, like everywhere else in the FAYZ, he had run out of food, but Albert didn't want to lose the one place where he felt safe. He had been flipping through a few magazines that used to belong to the owner, when an ad for a club, somewhere in Las Vegas, caught his eye. It was like a revelation, a sign from God, if there still was one, and, just like that, Albert was owning a club.

Sure, there was a spat or two with Sam about the matter, who eventually gave in, setting a time limit on how long the kids could stay up. Albert, who knew real money was not only scarce, but worthless, began to charge either toilet paper or batteries for an entry. These things were distributed, eventually, and he liked to give the supplies to the day care, where Mother Mary and Brother John were still running things.

"Jack!" Albert called, noticing the bespectacled blond in the center of the dance floor, jumping down from the little mount of a sound system, where an old R&B song was playing. "Hey, Computer Jack!" he yelled again, finally gaining his attention, almost out of breath by now. "Hey, Jack, can you give me a hand, the music list is acting up."

"No problem," Jack replied nervously, following Albert back to the system, scrolling down the list of music that he had put together, from kids' iPods, or old CD's he found, where a tiny glitch was occurring. "One moment," he murmured, typing in a long code, before the page blinked, then returned to normal, "okay, it should be working fine now."

Albert hardly had a second to thank him, when a girl screamed from across the room, a sixth grader with long brown hair and blue glasses. "There's a fire!" she yelled in his direction, causing a ripple of shrieks, as the wall of kids moved towards the doorway. Jack punched a key, turning off the music, as the two boys ran in the direction of the blaze, where the brunette was trying to fan it out with her jacket.

"Stop!" Jack exclaimed, but was too late; her jacket caught on fire as well, the blaze climbing up her thin, pale arms, her blue-green eyes wide with fear, too frightened to scream again. He grabbed her other arm, yanking her in the direction of the sinks still behind the counter, trying to splash enough tap water over the flames to put them out.

"Jack, bring me a cup of water!" Albert yelled, using his bare hands to fan air towards the fire, which was truly only making it worse. Not only was he scared, but he felt guilty for scaring all of those kids, especially the brunette, whose name he just remembered, Evelyn. "Jack, water now, then bring Evelyn to Lana!"

Jack, overwhelmed and tripping over his own feet, brought the Styrofoam McDonald's cup over to Albert, who aimed it at the base of the fire, sloshing its contents over the flames. Ice skittered over the tiles, water lapped at the toes of his shoes, but the fire descended, until it was nothing more then a few little licks of flame that he stomped out with the bottom of his shoe.

"I-I'm sorry," Jack apologized, his eyes cast to the ground, as Albert shook his head, trying to gather the dropped items from when the kids ran out all at once. "I must've messed up when I typed in the code, and tapped into one of the connecting wires, which created a data overload, and the fire started. It's my fault."

"No, I think it was just one of those freak accidents," Albert answered, insistent that Jack was not the source of the fire, even though his explanation was more likely then anything else he could conjure up. He wasn't one to blame things on others, especially Computer Jack, who was the most nervous person he knew. "You take Evelyn up to Lana, or to Sam, and he can walk you up to Clifftop. I've got to clean up in here and apologize to those kids."

Computer Jack nodded stiffly, gesturing for Evelyn, who still looked terrified, to follow them, as the two disappeared out the front doors. Albert, glad they were gone, let out a long breath, angry at himself for letting such an accident to happen. He was supposed to be responsible for the McClub, responsible for the kids: what if someone else got hurt?

He walked over to the laptop, took out the iPod plugged into the side, and placed the headphones into his ears, listening to a Beatles song he used to be able to play on his acoustic guitar. Albert wished he still had his acoustic guitar, which had been splintered and used for firewood, playing a song always made him feel better. With the music, and dimmed lights, and scattered debris, Albert began to clean up.

0o0

Mary was not having a very good day; she had gorged on a box of stale Wheat Thins, then thrown it all back up, then felt incredibly guilty. John loved Wheat Thins, so did most of the little kids, she was wasting food just to throw it all back up, worrying about her weight. No matter how long she ran on the treadmill, the pockets off chub stayed on her waist, clinging to her hips for dear life.

Isabella was helping out though, she was feeding the babies creamed fish from Quinn, while John was leading a craft in the corner, something about making paper dolls. Mary smiled wearily at her brother; he was only eleven, but he was strong, smart, always level-headed and patient with the kids, staying awake for days before he crumpled to a mat to sleep. She was glad to have him.

Mary was about to help a young boy cut his paper doll right, when she heard the creaky door, barely hanging on it's hinges, open up. She glanced in the direction, finding Albert, who was carrying their weekly supply of toilet paper and batteries. "Albert," she greeted, trying to sound the slightest bit chipper, failing miserably, especially when she saw the dark circles under his eyes. "Is something wrong?"

Albert sighed softly, knowing that keeping anything from her would be fruitless, just because she was so understanding and kind. He loved to visit her, see her cooing to a baby, or kissing a toddler's bumped knee, the gentleness, even when she felt frustrated or depressed. "There was a fire at the McClub last night, a small one, but someone got burned anyhow. It took Lana a full hour to heal her burns, and I was just…" He closed his eyes, knowing he would start to rant if he continued.

Mary felt torn between staying with the prees, and listening to her friend's troubles, eventually taking their weekly provisions, placing them out of reach from the children. "John, I've got to talk with Albert for a moment, show them how to make paper doll clothes," she called over her shoulder. He smiled wearily, holding up another piece of paper, drawing an outline of a dress for them to follow.

"You're an angel to help all these kids," Albert blurted, wishing he hadn't, as his cheeks burned with humiliation, and hers burned in pleasure. "They look up to you, you're just…amazing to do all of this for them," he added softly, watching as Mary locked the door to the backroom, where the provisions and daycare supplies were stored.

"Thanks," she uttered shyly, before sitting down on the bumpy couch, offering for him to sit next to her, "now, what was this about the McClub fire, I think Computer Jack said something about that when he stopped by this morning."

Albert sighed again, putting his head in his hands, while she looked on in concern, not used to seeing the always collected Albert like this. "Well, Computer Jack was trying to fix the song list, and must've entered in a wrong code, or something, because one of the wires caught on fire. The kids got out okay, but that girl, Evelyn Grant, with the glasses, got burned. I felt so guilty after that, the McClub is my responsibility, Sam said so, I shouldn't have let that fire happen."

Mary touched his shoulder sympathetically, her problems suddenly seeming more minor compared to the guilt he was combating on the inside. He was supposed to responsible and collected, but if one little thing happened to his customers, he would hit on himself for a long time. "Al, you know that fire wasn't your fault, the McClub may be your own, but that doesn't mean you kill yourself worrying. I'm rooming with Sam, the guy is so over-loaded with work, I saw him using a _toothbrush _as a pencil."

Even Albert had to laugh a little at that, thinking about how pressured Sam was to keep the FAYZ in one piece, but never thought about him that way. "I guess you're right," he admitted, knowing that she was correct, "I still have the McClub, I can repair anything." He finally looked up, and was staring right at her, feeling his heart leap a little. She wasn't Barbie doll beautiful like Astrid the Genius, or the dark beauty like Diana, or even the rugged, accidental prettiness of Lana. Mary was naturally beautiful, more then any of them.

There was a crash, followed by the sound of John urgently calling her name, as Mary sighed, getting to her feet, flashing him a "one second" look before scampering out of the back room, leaving him alone. Albert looked around just to pass the time, when his eyes fell on an acoustic guitar, resting in the corner. His heart leapt, his fingertips itched to feel the strings, and he gave into the temptation, grabbing the instrument and bringing it back to the couch.

Albert was a little rusty, since he hadn't played in three months or so, but once he warmed up with a few chords, he was playing again. He had forgotten a lot of the notes to most of the songs, without having the sheet music, but one song remained in his mind. He strummed once more, and Albert began to play "You're My Inspiration" by Chicago.

Since he had played and listened to the song so many times, the lyrics had to be whispered to keep time with the notes, and he was singing softly, playing the guitar, not thinking about the McClub, or being hungry, or Evelyn, or Computer Jack, or the little kids: he was thinking about music and Mary.

"Albert?"

He had just finished the song when Mary's voice came from across the room, her too-thin form stepping forward, something like happiness glittering in her eyes. "Oh, Mary…" Albert stuttered, nearly dropping the guitar, "I-I was just playing a little to-to pass the time. I'll put it back."

"No," Mary answered firmly, shaking her head, sitting down next to him, placing the guitar back in his hands, guiding his fingers to the strings once more, a thin smile spreading across her face. "The guitar is yours on one condition: can you play me another song?" she asked, as he grinned, strumming "Yesterday."

And, somewhere in the FAYZ, which was full of crime, and hunger, and destruction, and blood, and pain, and stress, and no sleep, there was a few minutes of happiness, where two teenagers sat in the back room of a daycare, as "Yesterday" came to a close and Albert smiled at Mary.

**Ah, fluffy, fluffy, fluffy! I just love this pairing, I know the ending was incredibly cheesy, but I wanted to have a little fluff. =) Thanks for the reviews on "Slice" hope this is a good little break from the blood and violence of the FAYZ. Leave a review, and you will receive a free pass to the McClub. =D!**


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